Chapter 26 #2
“Rise and shine, Your Highness.” Caedian’s gruff voice sounded overhead as he hoisted Atlas out of the tub and hauled him to his feet.
Atlas stumbled once, then squeezed one eye shut, trying to focus on his captain’s face.
Caedian’s smooth brow narrowed and his mouth pulled to the side.
“Care to explain what happened in here?”
“Fuck off,” Atlas grumbled as he ambled toward the sink, pieces of glass crunching beneath his boots. Bubbles slid down his pants and he very much looked like he’d pissed himself. “What did you do? Dump a bucket of water on my head?”
Caedian scoffed. “Thought I might need more than one.”
“Might have had better luck if you simply tossed me into the Ladova Bay,” Atlas countered, scowling.
“And leave you to drown because of your own foolish indulgences?” His captain barked out a laugh. “Unlikely.”
“I see your talk with Everinne went well.”
Atlas swung his head in the direction of the other voice, instantly regretting the action. But he saw Veros lounging against the door frame with his arms crossed, a look of mild amusement dancing across his usually somber expression.
“You should be thrilled.” Atlas turned on the faucet and hastily brushed his teeth. He washed his face until his fingers were numb from the frigid water. Then he pointed in Veros’s direction. “She rejected me.”
Veros blanched, his brows lifting slightly. “I honestly didn’t think she would.”
“Then apparently you don’t know your sister as well as you think you do.” Grabbing a towel, he scrubbed it over his face and disheveled hair. At least for now, with the mirror busted, he wouldn’t have to face his own reflection.
“Everinne claimed she would be my wife in name only, and that I could fuck whoever I want.” He tossed the towel aside. “As if I would.”
To this, Veros said nothing. Atlas kept his mouth shut while his friend and captain helped him change his clothing.
He kicked off the soapy pants and shrugged out of the wet shirt, discarding it on the floor.
Though why they felt the need to make him wear proper royal attire was beyond him.
They forced him into a pair of black pressed pants with freshly polished boots, a crisp shirt of deep evergreen, and a dark brown vest embroidered with golden threads.
At some point, Maxim entered the room and deposited a silver tray filled with a basket of buttery rolls and a steaming cup of tea that smelled faintly of mud and brewed herbs.
Since his poor valet had been relieved of his usual duties by both the Lord of Time and the Captain of the Guard, he set to cleaning the disaster left behind from Atlas’s drunken rage.
Guilt swarmed him.
His bedchamber was freezing, no thanks to the fact that he’d shattered the glass door leading to his verandah last night. Two walls were in a state of disrepair from his fist, the stench of alcohol hung heavy in the room, and the bathing suite was covered in glass and drops of blood.
“Thank you, Maxim.” Atlas grabbed a roll and shoved half of it into his mouth, hoping the bread would soak up some of the honeyfire still churning in his gut. “I apologize for the mess I’ve created.”
Maxim just hummed in response. “I’ve seen far worse, my prince.”
Of that, Atlas had no doubt. His valet was once a great warrior. He reached for the tea next, already knowing what would come.
He glared into the cup of sludge, and while he was grateful for the palace healers and their numerous remedies, he wished this particular one looked a little bit less like the muck scraped off the bottom of his boot. It didn’t help matters that it tasted of wet dirt and moldy herbs, either.
His lip curled. “I hate this stuff.”
“Unfortunately for you, Your Highness”—Caedian clapped him loudly on the back—“there’s no faster way to cure a nasty hangover.”
Atlas gulped the murky contents down, then quickly bit off another hunk of bread to get the foul taste out of his mouth. “Can’t you just let me go back to sleep?”
“Not a chance.” Caedian’s gaze slid to where Maxim was sweeping up the remains of the glass door. The sky was the hue of gold and burnt orange. “You slept most of the day away in a drunken stupor and now you have a meeting.”
Atlas ran a hand through his rumpled hair, and the messy curls fell into his face. “What meeting?”
Veros cleared his throat. “The one with Eldress Valaina of Morvayne and High Priestess Rozalie of the Coven of the Scarlet Moon.”
“You know,” Caedian ventured, adjusting the silver leather cuffs on his wrists, “the one you requested as soon as possible.”
He arched one white, prominent brow.
Shit.
He was supposed to meet with the Eldress and the High Priestess to discuss the vanishing immortals, but he’d been so caught up with the announcement of his rather abrupt betrothal to Everinne that he’d completely forgotten.
Not only was he trying to recover from a self-inflicted hangover, but he wasn’t at all prepared for a discussion with two of the highest-ranking members of Prava’s society.
They would expect him to have a plan, they would demand answers, and he had neither to give them.
“That’s today?” Atlas pressed his fingers to his temples, massaging slowly, grateful the pounding ache in his head was already beginning to ease.
“Tonight, yes,” Caedian confirmed.
Atlas’s gaze slid to Veros. “Are you coming, too?”
The Lord of Time gave a small bow. “If you’d like for me to be there, then I will.”
Atlas nodded slowly. He supposed he should ask Everinne to join him, but if he was being honest with himself, he wasn’t sure he wanted to see her.
Didn’t know if he would even be able to face her.
Not so long as she continued to deny him and reject their bond.
And after he’d kicked her out of his chambers last night, he wouldn’t be at all surprised if she didn’t want to see him either.
There was a good chance his father already knew about their premarital falling out, Atlas hadn’t gone to any great lengths to disguise his anger, and every servant and guard Everinne had passed in the halls once she fled his room had likely witnessed her outpouring of tears.
Knowing Oldrich, he’d likely force them to marry sooner rather than later to avoid any chance of scandal.
Or escape. The last thing the kralv would want was his reputation smeared by the announcement of a sham engagement, especially one that tied his already scorned son to a female of no noble rank or birthright.
Perhaps this was the kralv’s way of inflicting yet another form of punishment upon him.
Either way, Atlas knew he would have to reconcile with Everinne at some point, lest the kralv see fit to make their lives even more of a living hell.
He roughed his knuckles, now fully healed, along the jaw. “Where is Everinne?”
Veros shifted his weight from one foot to the other, and Atlas couldn’t recall a time he’d seen his friend so uncomfortable in his own skin. He rubbed the back of his neck with one hand and looked at his boots. “I expected to find her here with you.”
Atlas gave a short, humorless laugh. “She’s not in her room?”
“I have my team tracking her every movement, Your Highness.” Caedian stepped forward, rolled his shoulders, then tucked his hands behind his back. “They followed her out of the palace this morning.”
“And she hasn’t returned?” Atlas asked.
“Not yet.”
“Where was she headed?”
Caedian rocked back onto his heels and stole a glance at Veros. “Northeast, toward the Deszvila Forest.”
Atlas’s gut clenched, seized with worry.
The forest was not safe for anyone. It was more than stories and folklore that haunted the wicked wood, it was a desperate kind of darkness.
A ravenous evil. He knew she made careless decisions, but for Everinne to walk into the forest alone with the winter night steadily approaching, that was damn near a death sentence.
“If she has not left on her own by the time the sun sets,” Atlas ordered, his tone tainted with warning, “have them go in after her.”
He blew out a low breath. Either that, or he would go in and bring her back himself.
Caedian nodded sharply. “Yes, Your Highness.”
“Captain?” Veros leaned against the far wall near Atlas’s closet, with his arms folded across his chest. Despite the fact that his features remained smooth and unruffled, his shoulders were taut with tension. “Might I have a word with the imperial prince?”
Caedian cocked a brow. “That depends, my lord. Are you planning on attacking His Highness again?”
Veros shoved off the wall and lifted both hands in surrender. “Only if he hits me first.”
“Fine.” Caedian motioned between the two of them, and the corner of his mouth tugged upward. “But the next time you two brawl, I want to place bets before I’m forced to draw my sword.”
He bowed once, then left the room, closing the door soundly behind him.
Atlas popped the collar of his shirt and gave himself a hasty once-over in the floor to ceiling mirror of gilded branches that stood opposite of his bed. “What’s on your mind, Veros?”
“I want to know why you proposed to Everinne.”
Atlas whipped around to face him. “I didn’t.”
Confusion clouded the turquoise of Veros’s eyes and he frowned. “What?”
“She claimed she was marrying me before I even had the chance to get down on one knee.” Atlas shrugged, spreading his hands wide. “I only gave her my mother’s ring after the fact.”
Veros remained silent for a few moments, then he shoved his hands into his pockets and tilted his head. “You don’t find that at all?—”
“Suspicious?” Atlas interjected. “Fuck yes, I do. I know damn well she wasn’t agreeing to marry me just to get away from that lord of starlight.”
“No, I imagine not.” He smoothed a few strands of dark brown hair back from his face, tucking them behind his ear. “Nor does it make sense for her to want to marry you, then deny the bond.”
Atlas blew out a harsh breath and grabbed another bottle of honeyfire from his wardrobe. “I’ll drink to that.”
“The hell you will.” Veros swiftly plucked it out of his hand. “You need a clear head when you meet with Eldress Valaina and High Priestess Rozalie.”
“If I must.” Atlas rolled his neck, wincing when it cracked loudly. He pulled open one of the drawers and rummaged through it, finding a crumpled pack of stigs. Flipping the top open, he plucked one out and stuck it between his lips. “Speaking of, have there been any more disappearances?”
“Not yet,” Veros muttered. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a lighter. The brilliant blue flame sparked as Veros lit the stig for him, then he snapped it shut and returned it to his pocket.
“Yet…” Atlas repeated, hating the way the word sounded, like an omen. A promising threat of worse things to come. He took a drag of the stig and wisps of floral minty smoke floated in front of him. “You think there will be more?”
Veros turned slowly and faced him. His face was somber as he said, “I think this is only the beginning.”
Somehow, hearing Veros utter those words caused tendrils of dread to curl around Atlas. They coated his skin like ice and the hairs along the back of his neck stood on end.
This particular sensation was far worse than the word yet .
If Veros’s fears were true, then they would need to go beyond the docks, the parlors, and the city for more information. They would need to venture deeper into the underdark of the world below the gilded rooftops of the Golden City.
Atlas stared at his friend and his chest tightened. “I must go to the Marzena.”
“The Marzena?” Veros frowned, a line of concern crinkling across his brow. “You’re serious?”
“Completely serious.” Atlas blew out another puff of smoke.
The Marzena was a maze of damp tunnels and misleading paths located beneath Starysa’s streets.
It was the sort of place that was only whispered about in darkened alleys, where the dealings were as obscure as those who dwelled there.
A market for the occult, where one could find anything from untraceable poisons to necklaces made from merrow scales to jars of still-beating hearts.
Clandestine shops were cloaked in shadows, and the underground passages were perfect for trading the invaluable and obscene.
The Marzena operated under its own set of rules, out of sight of Kralv Oldrich, who couldn’t care less about its existence, and so the foulest of beings made it their domain.
Warlocks, demon summoners, and any soul with a penchant for the wicked and cruel took up residence with their illegal wares, striking unbreakable bargains, and demanding payment in blood.
Atlas took another deep inhale of his stig, considering his next words carefully. “If these immortals with rare magic aren’t just disappearing…if they’re being stolen for sinister reasons, then I guarantee you someone in the Marzena knows something.”
Veros nodded, rubbing his lips together. “Are you going to tell the Eldress and High Priestess of your plans?”
Atlas blew out a cloud of smoke and his shoulders fell. “My guess is they already have connections down there. If anything, we’re a step behind.”
“Damn.” Veros slid his timepiece from his pocket, and the golden runes spun and whirred. He snapped it shut and met Atlas’s gaze. “When do we go?”
“We?”
“No offense, Your Highness, but sometimes you’re a little too cocky for your own good.” The corner of Veros’s mouth twitched into what could almost be considered a smile. “You’ll need someone who knows how to negotiate and strike bargains…if necessary.”
The words hung in the air between them, and it was then Atlas realized exactly what Veros was saying.
“You’ve been there before.”
It was a statement of fact, not an accusation.
Veros nodded. “I have.”
“When?”
“A story for another time.” Veros nodded toward the door. If they didn’t leave soon, they would be late for the meeting with Valaina and Rozalie. He reached for the handle, then paused without looking back. “She’ll come around, you know.”
Everinne.
“Maybe.” Atlas rolled his stig between his fingers, the ember almost snuffed out. “She seems pretty adamant on denying the bond.”
Veros turned and placed one hand on Atlas’s shoulder. His face was solemn and his eyes piercing as he said, “I will only tell you this once, Atlas. Because you are my friend. And because she is my sister.”
He drew in a steadying breath. “Everinne never does anything without a reason. She may be brash in her thoughts and make hasty decisions, but it is always for a reason. Trust me, her agreeing to marry you and then denying the bond between you both was not done without a purpose.”
It wasn’t exactly helpful, but it wasn’t horrible advice either.
Everinne wanted to marry him for a reason.
She’d denied their mating bond for a reason.
All Atlas had to do was figure out why.
Unfortunately for him, nothing involving Everinne was ever easy.